12.1 miles

Mollies Ridge shelter (mile 177.3) to Derrick Knob shelter (mile 189.4)

Despite the cold I slept well. I woke briefly at 5am and then dozed until 7. After that sleep I felt much better. I decided a hot breakfast was in the menu, it would give me the energy needed to hit my twelve miles to the next shelter. I had to step over a few sleeping forms to get out of the shelter, more folks must have turned up whilst I slept, as there was now about 25 people crammed in there.

I went to collect my food bag, trying to decide which Mountain House I would have. Except it wasn’t there. I had tied it around a large stump last night. Not the best spot, but hailstones and frigid wind sometimes lead to bad choices. Even so, it was tied really securely. I checked the shelter in the hope that someone had maybe picked it up for me. Nope.

I checked the stump again and noticed this time that it was decidedly smaller than yesterday. There were chunks of wood all over the ground. Fuck.

My bear bag is called an Ursack. It’s made from Kevlar or something and the Bears cant bite through it. Because they don’t get a food reward from it they are also not supposed to carry the bag very far. My current predicament proved that that was complete and utter bullshit. There was no sign of my bag. The bear had stolen it. I told the other hikers who were all a little shocked, this was the first sign of bear activity we had seen on the trail.

“Well…at least my pack will be lighter…”

I was trying to work out what to do. I needed at least 3 days food to get to the next town, which was Gatlinburg. It seemed that my only option was to head back to Fontana. And if I did that I was not coming back. The hike was over. I was already nursing some injuries and was desperately homesick. No way was I going to repeat the misery that was yesterday.

The other hikers did not like the sound of that either. “We can’t have you going back dude!” They all chipped in and gave me some food and pretty soon I had more than enough to get to Gatlinburg. The hiker community is pretty rad.

Just to be clear here, the whole ‘a bear stole my food’ thing was entirely my fault. I did not secure my pack correctly, which was why the bear was able to get to it. 

I headed off. Then came back for my hat. Off again. Then came back for my trekking poles. Good start.

I stopped at the next shelter for a rest (it was only three miles away) and met a day hiker and a lady called Slosh. She gave me a bunch of grapes and the day hiker gave me an apple. This was a bright spot in an otherwise rotten day.

The trail was slush and mud. And when it wasn’t slush and mud it was a creek with water up to my ankles.

I remember that Bob, the owner of Top of Georgia hostel, had told everyone that the mountains in Georgia that we had just clambered over gasping and sweating were maybe a 4 on the ‘holy shit this is really difficult ‘ scale. The Smokys, he assured us, where easily a 10. At the time I hoped like hell he was exaggerating. Turns out he was not. The Smokys are tough.

I had two epic falls. The first resulted in me twisting my already damaged ankle and smashing my left knee on a rock. The second one I actually went head over heels smashing my elbow and shoulder (on the left side of course) and ended up a few meters away from where I had originally slipped. If anyone had seen it I’m sure I would have gotten some applause. Then they would have probably worried that I had gone and died from the fall because I did not move for a good couple of minutes. I finally mustered up the energy to scream profanity’s at the uncaring sky and clambered painfully back to my feet.

I was a mess and did not reach the shelter until 7:20 pm. 12 miles in the Smokys was not the same as 12 miles in Georgia. There was a large group of folks already there but, thankfully, there was still space in the shelter. I did not recognise any of the hikers, and they were a cliquey bunch, not really up to chatting with anyone outside their group. I did try though, which is so unlike me its not even funny.

It was getting pretty dark so I got out my head lamp only to realise it was no longer working. Of course it wasn’t, I mean why would it? I was more bewildered than angry. If my sleeping pad had sprung a leak I would have just shrugged and accepted my fate, it was just one of those days.

I had a decent meal, in the dark. Pried my frozen shoes and socks from my feet and clambered into bed and hoped that tomorrow would be a better day.

I slept like the dead.